


Betrayal

by CeciliaCrescent



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 10:04:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11780883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeciliaCrescent/pseuds/CeciliaCrescent
Summary: Two consecutive nights of dreaming about a dystopian setting got me in a somewhat dark and morbid mood. While I was trying to write another chapter for my ongoing project, The Pillar of Salt, this bubbled up instead, an over dramatization of the events that happen at the latter part of The Price of Salt/Carol. Be warned, this story is NOT happy and is quite dark and disturbing. So if you’re very squeamish about these things, please be advised.Also, for those who follow my other Carol story, don’t worry, the next chapter (19) will be up soon. I just got a little sidetracked and it’s nowhere near the mood of this one.





	Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> Two consecutive nights of dreaming about a dystopian setting got me in a somewhat dark and morbid mood. While I was trying to write another chapter for my ongoing project, The Pillar of Salt, this bubbled up instead, an over dramatization of the events that happen at the latter part of The Price of Salt/Carol. Be warned, this story is NOT happy and is quite dark and disturbing. So if you’re very squeamish about these things, please be advised.
> 
> Also, for those who follow my other Carol story, don’t worry, the next chapter (19) will be up soon. I just got a little sidetracked and it’s nowhere near the mood of this one.

She pulled the trigger.

The gunshot echoed across the desert. Sulfur winds carrying metal dust grazed the two figures standing in the middle of nowhere. Therese’s eyes held pure shock as blood dribbled down her abdomen. “C…Carol…Why…?” Her limp body fell further into Carol’s embrace. The young woman never suspected a thing when she was wrapped in the arms of her lover.

“Forgive me, Therese…” Carol murmured, her face unfazed, completely betraying the ravaging emotions storming inside her. “I love you too much…”

Therese couldn’t believe it was happening. It wasn’t supposed to end that way. They were supposed to run away together, away from the discriminating glares of the dystopian society. They were supposed to travel across the broken globe, across red seas, to be together in a thousand walled cities, a thousand safe houses, in foreign lands, in heaven and hell.

She choked up the rising blood and stained the precious mink coat that she loved watching her beloved adorn. “Ca…rol…” Her voice barely audible as streams of crimson dribbled down her lips, the same lips that were worshipping her killer’s body no less than a week ago.

Carol dropped the gun and the embrace grew tighter, almost choking Therese. She felt the young woman’s pulse slowing, waning, and she couldn’t bear to look at her eyes while she was still breathing. “Do you hate me, Therese?” She murmured into the dying woman’s ears. There was no reply, only gagging and choking followed by labored breathing. Moments later, Therese’s cold body hit the dusty sand.

She was dead.

* * *

 

“Come back to New York or else…” Carol recalled the image of Harge saying that, holding a dagger to their daughter’s neck on the screen of the videophone, as she tucked away the gun beside the seat of the car. Rindy’s expression was blank as always, but Carol knew she must have been scared beyond words.

“Harge, don’t do this!” She screamed at the videophone’s receiver. “Look at what you’ve become!”

But the man didn’t move, instead, Rindy said in a pleading voice. “Mother, please come home…” And Carol broke down that instant at the videophone booth. She thought Harge loved their daughter too much for that though Harge was never known to bluff and the psychotic remarks Abby heard him spouting made her decision to stay with Therese falter.

She turned for one last look at the leather-clad body of her lover, slumped on the desert sand, flung out of space, waiting to be eaten by the beasts at dusk, and stepped on the pedal.

The decision to kill Therese wasn’t an easy one. She knew that if they simply went back to New York, a city that would hang you the instant you’re even suspected of going against the religious teachings of the ruling party, Therese would no doubt meet her end the moment she set foot inside as the city’s thousand eyes would spot them together instantly. Harge has enough connections among the upper society to make accusations based on a whim. She would be found guilty of two things, fornication and homosexuality.

The tires screeched as they skidded across the debris filled Waterloo streets when Carol drifted the vehicle along a steep curve. The beggars littered on the road ducked for safety as the green car sped towards them. A man with only one leg couldn’t leap in time and was sent flying towards the other side of the road. Bystanders were indifferent to the everyday sight and brisk-walked towards the safety of their homes.

She couldn’t have left Therese alone either. The two became inseparable after that night at the motel, and after the latter opened her eyes to what she really wanted, she couldn’t bear to leave her alone in the harsh outside world to fend for herself. Carol had the connections and the money to safely pass the inter-state barricades without issues. But a young lady who practiced in the field of arts, a field deemed “fruitless” by the ruling parties, would find it near impossible to survive out there on her own. She left the protection of Richard’s family before setting off with Carol, something she only spoke of once they had left New York, and so she had no other choice but to stay with her.

Even if she did manage to take care of herself, Carol would be simply restless at the thought of her out there alone. She had to return immediately to New York to stop Harge from doing anything drastic with Rindy, but once she’s there, she knew she would basically be surrendering herself to the domestic dictatorship of her husband. If she even tries to go back for Therese, Harge would notice it immediately and Carol fears more for the safety of Rindy.

Torn between the lives of the two girls that meant the most to her, she ultimately followed her inner voice as a mother. She loved Rindy simply too much to let the hapless little girl meet her demise by the hands of her deranged father. And that decision sparked the resolution that if Therese were to meet her end given the circumstances, it might as well be by her own hand.

The stench of the blood-stained coat wafted inside the car, but Carol didn’t want to open the windows. The toxic fumes outside would smell far worse than the blood of her lover, but it tugged at her every time, recalling the young woman’s hollow, tear filled eyes as she breathed her last breath, and hearing her blood filled gags as she realized the betrayal. Carol floored it.

* * *

 

Eventually, the walls of New York began to appear in the horizon. Soldiers armed at their stations flashed the go signal as Carol’s car entered the gate. Harge told her that they would meet at what was once known as Madison Square Park in a prior message. Bracing herself for the most difficult challenge of her life, she drove towards the rendezvous point.

Harge stood there along with their daughter in the broken pavement. With her husband’s gun tucked away inside her coat, Carol exited the car and slowly walked towards them. Without even a word, Harge stepped aside as Carol knelt beside Rindy and wrapped her arms around her daughter. She threw a hateful glance towards the man before lovingly kissing Rindy on her forehead. “Are you okay, sweetheart? Did he hurt you?”

“No, mother.” Rindy said, in that calm, indifferent voice that she unmistakably inherited from Carol. “Not at all.”

“I’m home, Rindy. I promise I’ll never leave you again.” She said tenderly as she pressed her daughter’s head into her soft fluffy mink coat. But Rindy broke away and stepped back slightly.

It happened in an instant. Carol’s body froze involuntarily. She gazed down to see the tip of a dagger erupting from her chest. Harge’s hand let go of the dagger’s handle sticking out from the back, and Carol collapsed on the ground. Rindy’s eyes hinted disgust and contempt at how her mother had become. To sink to the depths of sin and becoming a menace to society, it was a fitting end for a wretch like her. Carol’s mouth hung open as she coughed out blood. Some of it leaked from her wounds and further stained her mink coat, mixing with the blood of the young woman she had murdered.

“Come on, sweetie, let’s go.” Harge said and took Rindy by hand. Without a second glance, the two walked away from the dying woman in the middle of the square.

“Rin…dy…” Carol breathed, her hand desperately reaching out at the silhouette of her daughter. Tears began streaming down her eyes, mixing with the pool of blood forming beneath her, staining her beautiful blonde hair.

It was all for nothing. No happy ending awaits the woman who turned her back on it all, who looked back and became The Pillar of Salt. Cursed by her angel who awakened the fires inside her, enough to burn down cities, she uttered her dying words. “I’m so sorry… Therese…”

* * *

 

Abby was the first to discover Carol and she cried uncontrollably, screaming her name over and over again as she held her lifeless body in her hands. She heard from the city’s thousand ears that she was headed to the park but arrived much too late. Several months passed and on the evening of the twenty fourth of December, she paid her dear friend a visit.

Abby dropped on her knees in front of the grave and mourned. No one else ever visited the grave of a wretched woman like Carol. Harge moved away with Rindy, determined keep her as safe as possible. Given his wealth and ties among the upper society, he would most likely succeed. Something Carol would have taken delight in if she was alive. Beside her headstone was another, belonging to that of a young woman. Her body was never found, but she was presumed dead when her travelling companion left her alone in the outside world. Abby briefly touched the other grave, acknowledging that the young woman’s place in Carol’s heart greatly surpassed hers during the time of their deaths.

Perhaps it was better that way. The two women were free from the clutching grip of the dystopian society, with no one to bother them in their eternal nights in Waterloos, Christmas Eves that were forgotten long ago, sharing Martinis in roadside inns, flung out of space.


End file.
